


The Murphy Philosophy

by Fountain_pen



Series: The Murphy Series [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-02
Packaged: 2019-06-20 13:56:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,133
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15535743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fountain_pen/pseuds/Fountain_pen
Summary: It’s not conventional. But the combination of a master spy and a physicist with a very green alternative ego rarely results anything of that nature. Their concept of conventional is twisted. The world not ending on their faces, for example, is truly unconventional. They don’t delve on it, instead proceed without precaution. Perhaps, uncharacteristic and... dangerous, obviously.But what had Murphy say? “Smile, tomorrow will be worse.” So, well: A temporary reprieve.





	The Murphy Philosophy

It’s not conventional. But the combination of a master spy and a physicist with a very green alternative ego rarely results anything of that nature. Their concept of conventional is twisted. The world not ending on their faces, for example, is truly unconventional. They don’t delve on it, instead proceed without precaution. Perhaps, uncharacteristic and... dangerous, obviously. 

But what had Murphy say? “Smile, tomorrow will be worse.” So, well: A temporary reprieve. 

In retrospect, Bruce is sure Natasha has some meticulously outlandish yet ingenious plan if things went downhill. 

“Stop thinking, enjoy.” Of course, she can read his mind, or simply read his body language as she always states. 

They’re lost somewhere in Seoul - Ihwa village. ‘Lost’ may not be an accurate term. Not when they don’t have an aim, no destination to rush to. They take lefts and rights at whim. It’s liberating, he realizes. 

It’s a nice place, famous for its murals. The painted staircases are beautifully eroded, an attestment to its fame. The scarlet, gold foliage littered across the pavement gives a naturally aesthetic touch. The weather is forgiving enough, autumn breeze saturated with its distinct sweet and sour scent; Natasha holds her gold suede jacket.

They walk up the fish patterned stairs, then the flowered ones. The murals are remarkable, each unique and somehow harmonious. They see a mural with angel wings, the space between it empty for people to take pictures. It must be one of its main attractions; there’s an impressive line. Natasha passes by without much words. 

They feed on convenience store rice triangles and exotic beverages. Bruce fails to get the rice triangle out of the wrapper, breaking the rice open from its structure. To his defense, he can’t read Korean. Natasha laughs, swaps his with hers with dexterity and finesses only a master spy can muster. Before he can protest she takes a bite with an amused smirk. “I wanted to try your flavour.” she says.

They’ve mastered the art of walking in silence while enjoying each other’s company. They stop to see a mural dedicated to the Avengers. It’s cartoonish, almost makes Tony look cute. Thor’s cape is comically large and Barton is wearing hideous purple sunglasses. Natasha and Steve look serious even in the form of a caricature. The Hulk looks as angry as ever. “Nailed the Hulk.” he laughs. She stares, not quite satisfied. 

She nudges him to what looks like a normal tea shop. He realizes there is a traditional Korean twist to it when he figures he can’t open the door; it’s neither meant to be pulled or pushed but manually slided. “Who knew it would be so amusing to see a man with 7 PhDs attempt to do normal human activities?” There is a teasing tone melted in her voice, her eyes laughing. Her mouth does too when he sheepishly scratches the back of his head. 

The coffee doesn’t look that impressive but admittedly does taste good, maybe it’s just the company. She calls him a dork when he voices his thoughts. 

The seats are made from carved oak and there is a board pinned with leaf shaped letters. He doesn’t catch Natasha take a pen or paper supplied next to the board. But she certainly is using them as they wait for their order. “World class spy, using her skills to steal.” He earns a smirk. She protectively shields her work with her arm when he tries to peak. 

They share odd tales. Her, about espionages - the more light hearted ones, he assumes. Him, about failed scientific experiments - the more ridiculous ones. The two genres of espionage and science somehow bounce off well, sharing keywords from banana milk to pseudoptics. 

They walk, buy canned bear, and walk up some more stairs. There is a ledge, providing the perfect view of the city. There’s also a warning sign clearly signifying not to sit on it, which Natasha ignores. She cocks her eyebrows when he hesitates and offers him her hand. He can’t help but take it. 

When he looks visibly surprised by the height, she laughs, pulls him to sit next to her and rests her head on his shoulders. He tenses at the interaction but finds himself relaxing as they continue their stories, the humming of her vocal cords soothing him. He wonders why it took him so long to realize how wonderful her voice was. 

They drink beer and watch the glorious death of the sun. “Sun’s getting real low.” she supplies. Once the Earth loses its greatest supply of light, the little ones spark up - city lights, dusted across the streets and buildings. 

It’s colder by the time they start walking back down. The street lights are on, painting a different sketch of the village. She wears her jacket and shivers a little. He blames the beer when he takes her hand and pockets it with his. 

They continue to walk down hill. They walk a little closer. 

He feels a shade of disappointment at the loss of contact when she pulls away to reassess the Avengers’ mural. She pulls out the leaf letter (He had forgotten about it) and secures it on the wall with tape. He doesn’t know how she got the tape either. He comes closer to observe, the leaf is placed right in the center, right below Hulk’s face and above Tony. It’s a similar cartoonish drawing of a man in a lab coat with curly hair. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out it’s him. 

He doesn’t, can’t, voice his gratitude. It almost feels like an insult, too shallow to manifest even a fraction of his emotions. He feels like he’d drown in them, overwhelmed by it, yet incapable of comprehending nor conveying it. Like a part of him he hadn’t realized was empty is being filled. It stuns him into silence. She replies by putting her hands back in this pocket, taking his with hers. 

He stops to hug her, buries his face into her hair and crushes her with his embrace, hoping that somehow this would reciprocate the unidentifiable yet definite warmth. He sighs in contentment when he feels her arms encircling him. Would kissing have been more fitting? He can practically hear Tony calling him a green horn and well.. maybe he is. 

Of course, Natasha isn’t. When they part, Natasha fists his shirt, pulling him down once more - this time not for a hug. He smiles against her lips. Turns out Natasha did have a meticulously outlandish yet ingenious plan when things went downhill. He just hadn’t expected the statement to be quite literal. 

They catch the last subway back. The tinted doors reflect them. It’s a unique sight for how perfectly normal it is. He wants to think it’s also harmonious, like the murals.

**Author's Note:**

> Murphy’s Law of Thermodynamics: “Things will get worse under pressure - Smile, tomorrow will be worse”


End file.
